The Way Down
by KTtheLuvAddict
Summary: Peter Pettigrew wants power...and he's found just the person to give it to him.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this story will probably be a couple chapters long. I know thats unusual for me, but whatever. **

**Characters belong to JK Rowling**

Peter knew he wasn't one of them. He knew he couldn't be. He didn't have the same squeaky clean appearance that they did. Even Sirius with his roguish good looks was still something that could be produced in a factory. It seemed, Peter thought, that 50% of girls like bad boys and the other 50% like quiet sensitive guys and 100% of girls hated Peter. And for some time, he was content with that. Sirius never held down a girlfriend, couldn't hold down a girlfriend. James had his eyes on an unwinnable prize and was therefore not interested in anything else. And Remus was more interested in books and school and pitying himself for a condition that subconsciously made him more appealing to females without them even knowing why. Peter figured that it was their human nature to be affected by the unknown. He was _romantic_ and _mysterious _and positively vomit worthy. But Peter would never allow his "friends" to hear him voice these things. They were stupid and artificial and could be replaced in the snap of a finger. But that was work, and peter didn't much like work. It wasn't until he started to really think about what he wanted from life that he realized he had to change everything. There had to be a change of hand for him, or else he'd be stuck as a pathetic Gryffindor lackey to the infamous James Potter and Sirius Black. And that most certainly wouldn't do.

She walked different then most girls. Her hips didn't swish back and forth as much. No, the movement was much more hypnotizing. She swayed from side to side as if she had nowhere special to be, but you might as well follow her. Her school skirt caught in the breezy sandalwood scented mist that seemed to follow her everywhere. She was spotlessly clean, from the scrubbed polished leather of her Mary Jane's, to the starch white collar of her dress shirt. Her hair was a glossy black and it hung down her back to her waist in long shiny sheet. Her face was another story though. It wasn't the runway faces of the other Slytherin girls. It wasn't exotic or glamorous. Instead, she had an upturned nose and a pair of eyes that looked as though they had been taken from a fish. They were silver and sea green, a combination that sounded appealing, but instead made the whites of her eyes seem bloodshot. Her front two teeth were slightly crooked, one over lapping the other just enough that it was noticeable. She wasn't long a graceful looking either. But she managed to carry herself that way. Her torso was long, but her hips were wide and that was what made the difference. She was short and unattractive under any other circumstance. But it was the way she held herself. The way her hips swayed and the way she talked. She spoke as if the whole world had stopped and was listening. Like the balance of nature itself hung on her every word. And that's what made Peter want her. Not her face, not her clothes, but the power she had over people. He wanted power, and she seemed to be its incarnate. That was enough for him.

He watched her from the other side of the great hall, a dangling fork in his limp grasp. His eggs and bacon were getting cold.

"What on earth is so mesmerizing, Pete?" James asked, eyeing Peter quizzically. Peter dropped his fork onto the plate and his gaze to the table.

"N-nothing." He mumbled. He prayed they wouldn't all look, but they did. And they saw.

"Lamia Concord."Sirius grunted as if he didn't much care for the name. Peter shook his head vigorously.

"Why were you staring at _her_?" James asked, eyebrows flying practically to his hairline.

"I wasn't-"Peter began. Then seeing three pairs of skeptical glares, he folded.

"She's umm…she's got pretty hair." he murmured. "I like black hair." He looked up to see James running a hand through his own equally inky hair and grinning stupidly.

"Gee, Pete, I didn't know I was your type." He made a show of winking a puckering his lips and Peter scowled. Sirius picked up a piece of toast and tossed it at James.

"No, but seriously Wormtail…why were you staring at Lamia Concord? She's…well…She's a few things I'd rather not say." Remus commented, straightening his tie. Peter shrugged.

"She's got a nice bum." Peter shrugged nonchalantly. The other boys stared at him before shrugging too and finishing breakfast.

Peter waited for her after breakfast. He told the other marauders that he had to piss. He spotted her walking towards the library with a gaggle of Slytherin girls. They were practically hanging off of her. He saw Sirius's little brother Regulus walking a few feet behind the girls with Elias Scabior and Rabastan Lestrange. The boys followed behind like guards, as if they were protecting the older girls. Peter smirked. This would be interesting.

He waited till they were all in the library to sneak in and hide himself amongst the book shelves. He caught sight of his reflection in one of the antique scrying mirrors that were placed around the library for students to examine and study. He grimaced. Pudgy belly, beady eyes, and his clothes were all ready ruffled and untucked. Why couldn't he have been blessed with Sirius's looks and James's charm? Oh well, he would make do with what he had.

He could smell sandalwood before he even caught sight of her. Skirting around a bookshelf, he saw her in the potion making section miraculously by herself. She was leaning casually against the shelf with a book open in her hands. Her thin eyebrows were furrowed and she had sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth. Peter tried to smooth down his hair, but his palms were slick and he feared they would make his hair look oily, so he stuffed them in his pockets instead and hoped his hair look casually ruffled. He doubted it did. Making his way towards her he grabbed two books at random to make it look like he was supposed to be there. He was feet from her now but she hadn't looked up. He was sure she could sense him, or at least hear his nervous breathing. He stopped just about three feet away and coughed.

"Can I help you, mister Pettigrew?" She asked, still not looking up. He was stunned for a second. She knew his name? Strange.

"I think you might have the book I need." He said. He didn't mumble or stutter.

"Oh really?" She said, finally meeting his eyes. Hers were cold and wet looking. One eyebrow was cocked and she pursued her lips. The expression reminded him of his mum. "That's why you were staring at me in the great hall and followed me here to the library? Because you need this book that I just picked up?" his stomach dropped. But he couldn't falter. He needed to impress her. And he was sure the best way to do that was to outsmart her.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, miss…what's your name?" he asked, making sure to make it sound like he really couldn't care what her name was.

"Concord." She said, smirking. Her fishy eyes flashed. "Don't pretend like you don't know. I've seen you watching me before…Wormtail." He blinked and her smirk became a full smile.

"H-how do you know that name?" he asked, clutching the books in his hand tighter. What else could she know? That he secretly hated the friends who called him that?

"Peter, really?" She asked, frowning. Her misty eyed look was gone and was replaced with a genuinely irked one. "There aren't many boys in our grade. I think I would know your name, we have two classes together." Her lips pouted out.

"Yes, I know that." He said, getting annoyed. Maybe this was a mistake, talking to her. Maybe she didn't have any power; she was just so strange that the girls flocked to her for entertainment. "But how do you know my nickname." He felt stupid for asking. But he felt that James, Sirius, and Remus were even stupider. How could one have a "secret" nickname, if they chose to use it at every given chance, including conversations in packed classrooms?

"Oh, I see I've made the little Gryffindor irritable. Think only your idiot friends know that name? They should learn the meaning of secret." She said. The smirk was back. Peter opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment Regulus Black swung around the corner carrying two scrolls and a sparkly green pencil case.

"I found your pencils, Lamia. And I-"he stopped speaking abruptly and scowled when he spotted Peter.

"Whats he doing here?" the younger boy sneered. Regulus Black had a sneer that could make even the most chipper person feel queasy. Peter wasn't the most chipper person, however. So he stared the boy down.

"I'm speaking to Miss Concord, obviously." Peter said, shrugging. Lamia looked from both boys back and forth. The two boys stared glared at each other.

"Oh, don't fight on my account." She finally grumbled when it seemed neither Peter nor Regulus wanted to break eye contact. She grabbed Peter by the arm and squeezed. It wasn't a romantic squeeze. It didn't make his skin burn or his stomach do a backflip. It was actually kind of painful. Peter winced.

"Pettigrew and I are working on a project together in potions. He met me here so we could study." She said, moving to stand behind peter and examining more books on the shelves.

"You didn't mention that." Regulus said stiffly.

"Oh, I'm sorry mum. I forgot I had to check in with you and ask permission." She said, waving a hand waspishly in his direction. He winced like Peter at being scolded. Peter grinned at the boy.

"Lamia…that's not what I meant-" He said quietly, as if he meant only for Lamia to hear even though Peter was standing between the two.

"Reg, just go sit down and…I dunno, read?" she sighed. Regulus scowled again and turned to go, throwing a murderous glare in Peter's direction as he did.

Peter turned around to look at her but she was an aisle away now and she had a small stack of books.

"Here, let me get those." He said, walking over to her and taking the books. She looked up at him curiously.

"I know about you, Peter Pettigrew." She said slowly. "I know that you watch me. I know that your friends don't like me much. But I'm not going to pretend to know what you want. So please, do tell." She commanded.

"I-I want to know how to do that." He said, nodding towards where they had just stood. "I want to know how to get people to do what I want."

"And you think I can tell you that?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and stepping closer. He could smell other scents under the sandalwood now. A sickly sweet scent seemed to crawl just under the surface. It smelled like burnt sugar. He thought it might be her hair.

"I know you can tell me that." He said, quietly. He wondered when his voice got so husky. "I've seen the way people act when they're around you. Like your happiness is the most important thing to them. I want that." She tilted her head to the side and studied him.

"I can do that…I can teach you." She said. He licked his lips. That was easy, maybe a little too easy. "But I'm going to need something from you." She said. His fingers itched. There it was. The catch.

"What do you want?" he asked. His head felt light.

"I want to know where your little werewolf friend goes when he changes at the full moon."

Peter grabbed the book shelf for support.

"You know?" he choked. That was impossible. Nobody knew about Remus except Dumbledore and the marauders.

"Don't pretend as if you're surprised, Peter. And don't pretend as if you have any loyalty to them. We both know what you really want. But I want to know about Remus's hiding spot for personal reasons. I won tell anyone. Scouts honor." She put her hand over her heart.

"The Shrieking Shack." He said finally. She smiled at him. It was a terrible smile. Her thin lips pulled up in the corners and made the smile so wide that it looked grotesque.

"Good, Peter." She said, reaching up to pat his cheek. "Meet me in the empty classroom across from the second floor girls bathroom tonight at ten. Don't get caught." And she turned and left him standing there in the empty aisle. For a moment he felt guilty. But underneath it, he felt as if the world had just lain down at his feet and was begging to be kicked.

Peter smiled hugely as he left the library and headed to divination. A tune stuck in his head and he began to hum quietly. It took him a moment to realize it was a funeral march. But even then, he didn't stop whistling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two, huzzah! Sadly (or not sadly, if you prefer) it's not nearly as long as the first. **

**Characters belong to JK Rowling.**

Peter felt like spy in one of those cheesy muggle movies his cousin Harold loved. He slipped around corners and ducked under tapestries, trying to hide from any prefects on duty. Remus wasn't on the job tonight, so there was no chance of him worming his way out of a detention if he got caught.

The sound of soft footsteps from around the next corner made him freeze. He was embarrassed to admit that he had been humming dramatic theme music to add to his 007 fantasy. He worried that it might have been too loud. Ducking quickly behind a large oriental vase, he peeked out to see who the footsteps belonged too. Frank Longbottom and his girlfriend Alice Burnish strolled past holding hands and whispering animatedly. Peter watched until they disappeared up the staircase at the end of the hallway to pop out and continue his mission.

The second floor girl's bathroom stood across from three classrooms. One of them was currently being used as a study hall for sixth years who wanted extra privacy. The second was the history of magic classroom, and the third was the empty room that he had been told to go to. He didn't know if Lamia was already there, but he went in anyway.

As soon as he shut the door softly behind him, there was a hissed locking charm and the handle clicked softly. Peter turned to see Lamia sitting Indian style atop the unused desk on the other side of the room.

"Why did you lock the door?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound like her actions made him nervous. She shrugged.

"Do you want someone barging in and interrupting us?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her glossy hair fell over her shoulder and pooled in her lap. It looked like a waterfall of tar. He stepped a few feet towards her.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" he asked. She tilted her chin up and held her hand out too him. He walked closer until her hand was inches from his chest. Carefully lifting his hand, he placed his fingers in her palm. For some reason, he expected her skin to be cold, or even hard like marble. But instead, her hand felt like any normal person's skin. Her palm was warm, soft, and a tiny bit clammy. She twisted her palm up under his until both their hands were flat against each other. She watched their two hands for a moment before finally speaking.

"You want to know why I asked you to come?" she asked. Peter wanted to point out that she had actually demanded that he meet her, but instead he just nodded. "You want to know why my classmates do _whatever_ _I want_?" she said, the last few words were a whisper. Peter nodded again.

"I have a friend." She whispered. "He is more powerful than anyone. All my friends want to know him. But no one knows him like I do. They are all hoping that if they are nice to me…and obey me, that I will make him like them too." Peter wondered if she knew that he knew who she was talking about. The name was hanging on his tongue. It was right there. A name that everyone knew and feared. And Lamia claimed to know the owner.

"Are you trying to tell me that your mates with You-Know-Who?" he asked skeptically. Her eyes flashed. Suddenly she wrapped her slim fingers around his wrist and yanked him foreword. He hips banged against the desk violently. It hurt something terrible, but he didn't cry out.

"You doubt it?" She hissed her lips inches from his. Her breath coasted over his face and he smelled the sugary sweet scent again. It was too sweet. It made his head swim. He bit his lip.

"The Dark Lord is not my 'mate'." She said quietly and slowly, as if speaking to an idiot. "He trusts me to confide in him only the most vital of information. _I am his loyal servant!_" Okay, the power was one thing. But being a follower of the most feared wizard in the world was another. Part of him wanted to believe that she was joking. That she was really just some strange girl that wanted to snog Sirius so she was using Peter to get to him. But another larger part knew that she wasn't lying. Knew that she was really what she said. That she sent You-Know-Who information about Hogwarts, and probably Dumbledore. His stomach curled in fear. This wasn't what he had wanted, was it? He didn't want to get involved with dark magic. He only wanted people to listen to him and want to be around him for once. But this? This was insane. She was insane.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked in a strained whisper.

"Because you are like me, Peter. You are small and insignificant and weak. But with the Dark Lord we have a purpose. We're _something!_" her voice had become almost manic. Like she couldn't get words out fast enough.

"Aren't you afraid I'll turn you in?"He asked. She dropped his wrist and he stumbled away from her. The look on her face was smug.

"If you have any sense of self preservation, you will keep this between us?" she smiled.

"Are you threatening me?"He asked aghast. She waved a hand dismissing the idea and hopped off the desk. Her shoes made a clicking sound on the cool stone floor as she walked around him.

"The Dark Lord needs men like you, Peter." She said as she pointed her wand at the door knob and unlocked it. He didn't miss the fact that she had called him a man. "I know you'll consider joining him. And when you decide to, which you will, come to me and we will tell him together. It will be splendid." She turned to face him and beckoned him towards her with one finger. For a minute he thought his feet wouldn't budge, but then he was stumbling to her side. She caught him by the collar of his shirt and gently pulled him down towards her. Their height wasn't that different, but it was enough that she couldn't reach his face with her own. He felt her lips press against his cheek and they were soft and warm like her hand.

"You will be great, Peter Pettigrew." She whispered against his skin. Then she slipped out the door and disappeared down the corridor.


End file.
